


Falling Is the Best Part

by 9thdoor



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Ice Skating, Jean is a dork, M/M, Modern AU, Oneshot, Please Don't Hate Me, and Marco takes full advantage of that fact, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 06:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1256734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9thdoor/pseuds/9thdoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was called ice skating.</p>
<p>And it was the best exercise of self control Jean Kirstein had ever experienced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Is the Best Part

“Holy fuck Marco are you _trying_ to kill me?”

 

The fact that the aforementioned freckled boy was just giving a laugh and a totally killer smile (no pun intended) was not doing anything to help Jean’s mood. That mood was caused by nothing other than what appeared, to any innocent outsider, to be a harmless winter activity. Iceskating. Marco had managed to coerce him into coming along to one of his lessons that were every weekend. He'd been attending them for months, and Jean assumed that the other would, of course, be decent at this, even able to do some tricks. But really, he hadn’t suspected that simply gliding on ice would be so hard. Unfortunately, as happened so often when he was spending time with Marco, he was wrong. 

 

“Come on Jean, you’re able to get your balance well enough, if you can just push your feet out like this--” Macro moved to demonstrate, sliding towards the center of the rink by a few feet with what was practically scandalous grace for such a simple move.

 

Such a simple move that was totally impossible for Jean to even attempt, so he quickly responded with a, “Don’t say it like it’s so easy, you’re a pro at this!”

 

Marco shrugged and turned, making his way backwards to watch Jean’s attempts at skating from behind, trying to give some encouragement without looking like he was enjoying the other’s suffering too much. "Straighten up-" Jean did so, looking over his shoulder, receiving a nod of approval as the other continued to talk, "Good, now sort of V your feet, yes, like that!" A cocky grin was back on Jean's face as it was most of the time, and he attempted to scoot forward, though the result was him half-walking on the ice rather than actually skating. 

 

" _Jean_ ," Marco sounded somewhat exasperated as he then skated up, spinning in a half-turn to face his friend and continue to go backwards. "You can't just tip-toe, you need to push with your feet so that you don't need to pick them up each time."

 

Of course, he'd been told that exact same thing multiple times by his darling best friend who was currently giving him another (yet somehow not exasperated) smile. “Marco, you know I can't do this, maybe we should just stop-"

 

"Nope,” the freckled boy insisted with a grin as he cut his friend off mid-sentence, coming forward to grab both of Jean's hands and pulling one off of the side rail despite the other's protests so that he could pull him forward. Jean gave another stammered insistence that no, he didn't need to have his hands held like a _freaking baby_ , which was completely ignored. Again. Honestly, it almost seemed like Marco wanted to hold his hands (which was a totally ludicrous idea which should _never_ have been even remotely considered). "See? You're almost doing it already Jean." 

 

That had always been a habit of Marco's, he said Jean's name almost an unnecessary amount of times, but he was one of the few people who knew how to say the French pronunciation correctly, so Jean didn't ever say anything of it, and couldn't deny the fact that over their years as friends he'd come to find it sort of endearing rather than odd. But really, he reminded himself, what about Marco wasn’t endearing?

 

Thoughts like that had been most of what got him in trouble lately, though thankfully it wasn’t known to anyone to himself. At least, not yet and at not as far as he knew. But who hadn’t thought the same about their best friend, once or twice, right? There was no harm in it, really, as long as he managed to keep it to himself. That was where things became more difficult, especially with Marco taking ice skating as an opportunity to grip Jean’s hands all too often and (quite unintentionally, of course) make him flustered beyond all hope of declaring his feelings towards the other as strictly platonic.

 

It was the best test of self control Jean Kirstein had ever experienced.

 

“Jeaaan,” Marco’s voice pulled his gaze up from the ice where he’d been staring and trying to focus on moving forward. Glad to finally have gotten his friend’s attention, Marco sighed. “Ready to try again?”

 

No, no he most certainly was not, but that grin really gave him no choice, so he gave a reluctant grunt of agreement and allowed the freckled teenager in front of him to pull him slowly forward on the ice. Jean was going to do it right this time, there was absolutely no excuse for being an utter and complete failure at _fucking ice skating_ any longer. And so he made the effort, pushing his left foot out to the side a bit in sync with Marco’s right which was just a couple feet in front of him. Sucking in a breath as he tried to pretend he couldn’t feel his best friend’s careful gaze on him, Jean repeated the process with his other foot, back and forth. 

 

And...he hadn’t fallen.

 

“It’s a miracle,” Marco teased as they slowly but steadily slid along, Jean struggling to keep up and the other having trouble just staying at the snail’s pace that his friend needed in order to do it right.

 

“Shut up,” he grumbled through mostly gritted teeth, though he was smiling more now, daring to feel confident again. Fuck, this was simple! Why had he even thought this was hard in the first place? Sure, it required lots of concentration, and he couldn’t even look up at Marco’s face for a moment, but it was most certainly worth it, because he was getting there and damn it, if he could do this, then passing Chemistry was going to seem like a whole lot easier of a goal to reach.

 

The freckled boy acknowledged him a moment later with an, “Alright, alright, but you don’t need to be so rude about it,” even though he was smiling as well, out of Jean’s line of sight. 

 

They continued to skate along, making a good loop and a half around the rink before Jean risked a glance up, though he almost immediately dropped his gaze to his feet again in fear of making a misstep. That earned a small chuckle from Marco who was still managing to skate with ease goddammit, and Jean looked up again, only to glare at his friend and receive a sheepish smile in return.

 

“What’s so funny?” he asked, managing to keep the nervousness out of his voice even as he watched Marco, who almost seemed more concerned that Jean was going to fall than the newbie skater cared for himself.

 

“It’s nothing,” he brushed off, having no trouble going backwards and still holding onto his friend’s hands for support, “I’m just usually the one getting help from you, not the other way around.” They both knew that wasn’t completely true, however, as Jean had been relying on Marco for last minute help on essays and assignments since they started high school, but he didn’t say anything on the matter, merely scoffing. 

 

“Oh come on, I’m at least getting the hang of it now,” Jean insisted, getting a nod of approval from his friend.

 

“Yes, but it’s taken almost an hour to just get you skating. Not to mention the fact that you still can’t do it without help.” The comment was obviously made without any sort of malice, but Marco glanced down at their still clasped-together hands once he’d said it, causing Jean’s face to heat up slightly. Hopefully, the flush would be taken for humiliation at having to be guided around the ice by his best friend rather than embarrassment for _fucking holding hands with his best friend_.

 

“Tch, I’ll do fine,” he announced cockily, straightening up more and pulling his hands from Marco’s as if to prove his point. “Look, no hands _mom_.” The sarcasm was obvious, and his freckled friend shrugged, skating slightly faster to increase the distance between them, as such closeness wasn’t really necessary anymore.

 

“Suit yourself,” Marco agreed, holding back his obvious reluctance with a shrug as he watched Jean skate, a slightly proud smile on his face. His friend said nothing, however, focusing on not breaking eye contact with Marco as he glided forward, more or less gracefully. “You’re doing pretty well,” he said encouragingly after a few moments, seeing Jean’s face fill into a grinning expression to match his.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes really,” his freckled friend chuckled, “I wouldn’t lie to you about that, though I’m surprised you haven’t fallen yet.” Now whether Jean assumed he was referring to falling on ice or falling for him was another matter completely, and one which the beginning skater didn’t want to consider.

 

Because it turned out Marco was wrong, and he was falling over and over and it kind of hurt. Falling for your best friend wasn’t a fun thing to do, he realized, and wished he’d been able to just decide against it with a, ‘No thanks, I’d rather not have my heart crushed under a metal skating blade.’ Sadly, that wasn’t an option, and would never be. Such sappy thoughts were one of the things Jean hated about himself, and was temporarily grateful to be yanked out of them when the toe pick on his skate caught.

 

And he tripped, and just like that, he was falling all over again, and the ice was getting close fast. And of course, he couldn’t have any logical thought about getting hurt, but only had the brief worry that holy shit, he was embarrassing himself in front of Marco.

 

But suddenly, just as his quickly exclaimed, “Fuck!” got past his lips, Marco’s arms were catching him, locked at the bend of his elbow around Jean’s armpits, heaving him up so that he could regain his balance, a muttered string of curses escaping.

 

“Gotcha,” that freckled idiot said with a cheeky grin, holding his best friend up with a slightly reddened complexion that couldn’t be blamed entirely on the chill of the ice.

 

Jean, mustering what was left of his pride to look Marco in the face, his own cheeks near burning, gave a grumbled, “Thanks.” Their eyes met, and Jean felt so goddamn lucky, while Marco just kept smiling.

 

Falling in love, Jean decided, was a bit like falling in skates. It was pretty rough, and sometimes people ended up landing face-first in the cold.

 

His best friend released the support and slid his hands down Jean’s arms in what might’ve been a way too affectionate to be platonic before he settled for holding the other’s hands in his again.

 

But the other half of the time, when falling wasn’t as bad, you got caught, and pulled back up to what actually mattered, hopefully by someone who loved you just as much as what made you trip in the first place.

 

“Seriously Marco, thanks,” he said, gaze shifting off to the side.

 

The freckled teen just laughed, “Don’t be stupid Jean, I’ll always catch you.”

 

And to be honest, he couldn’t think of anyone better to do just that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, my first fic up here. Please forgive any OOCness, as I haven't really written for these two (or anyone) for over a year. Partially inspired by the wonderful ice skating AU drawn here: http://kimiooon.tumblr.com/post/76764321389
> 
> Not really, but who knows, maybe I'll try to do a multi-chapter fic of that sometime when I feel more inspired! Also thanks to Remembrance who was super cool enough to tell me I should actually keep writing and also is the author of the amazing fic Tentative Bliss, which you should all read!


End file.
